


it's 3AM, could you be the one?

by iPhone



Series: Prompt Fills [5]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, F/F, First Meetings, Fluff, Friendship, IKEA Furniture, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26304223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iPhone/pseuds/iPhone
Summary: Chloe realizes she has a new neighbor and offers to help put together her IKEA furniture.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Series: Prompt Fills [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007427
Comments: 33
Kudos: 250





	it's 3AM, could you be the one?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karih](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karih/gifts).



> based on [a prompt](https://darby-carter.tumblr.com/post/175521321454/its-3-am-could-you-be-the-one): Its like 3am and I’m exhausted and I can hear you raging next door about failing at putting an ikea bed together so here I am helping you put it together and holy shit you’re cute AU
> 
> This was a birthday present for Kari. You asked and I attempted to deliver. Hope your days are as wonderful as you are. Thank you for letting me regift this to you. I actually did some editing on it too so it's slightly different from the original.
> 
> I lifted this from my [fic compilation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17436443/chapters/41053640) and I think I might start doing that with some of the other fics I liked. So, enjoy (again, if you've read this before)!
> 
> Originally posted July 3, 2018.

Chloe has only recently taken on the graveyard shift at the local veterinary emergency hospital. It's a thankless job most of the time, but she enjoys the exhaustion, the high-stress, and her coworkers. Not to mention, she loves this particular part of Los Angeles because it’s far enough away from the hustle and bustle (read: relentless and torturous traffic jams) of the city, but close enough that she can enjoy a night out on one of her rare weekends off.

But even those nights out have been far and few in between. She doesn't quite feel like the same girl from her early college days where going out and hooking up with strangers had been one of the more exciting things to do. If Chloe's being honest with herself, she looks forward to lying in bed at a decent hour. She wonders what her past self would say.

(And she's kind of looking for _the one_ —but that's another story entirely. Totes depressing.)

Chloe is racking up hours at the clinic because she’s trying to apply to vet school. She’s only about fifty hours away from a good-enough number to put on her application, so she’s pretty pumped about finally churning out those applications and sucking up to old professors for recommendation letters.

But for now, she sighs contentedly as she takes in the warmth of her only-slightly-dreary and sparsely-decorated apartment. Home is home.

“Hey,” she greets her cat when he trots into her line of sight.

Button is an adorable Scottish Fold that she adopted from her brother when he had to move across the country for a job (read: he dumped the cat on her). She doesn’t regret anything about adopting Button because he’s all the company she needs on most nights. He meows happily (or angrily - she’s still unsure) at her, quickly dodging her repetitive pats and scratches before dashing between her legs. He sits expectantly by his bowl, tail flicking back and forth while he watches her expectantly.

Tilting her head, she raises her eyebrow at him. “I _know_ Aubrey came by earlier to feed you,” she tells him, even as she opens the top cupboard to pull out a small bag of treats. “You’re lucky I love you,” she continues.

She is about to put the bag back when a loud series of sounds startles her so much that she drops the bag, causing a few more treats to skitter out chaotically, much to Button's delight. She registers the excess of treats quickly and reaches out. “No!” she whisper-yells, while attempting to collect them. Button bats at her hand aggressively with his paws and quickly gathers two treats in his mouth before she can stop him.

Sighing, she straightens slowly and turns towards the hallway, which is where she heard the rattling and thudding. At least, she thinks that's where the sounds came from.

“Fuck!” she hears, echoing from somewhere down the hall. Startled, she makes her way towards the bedroom, picking up the baseball bat from her front closet just in case. She wonders vaguely if this is how she dies. She never expected it’d be in Los Angeles, so she supposes that’s a plus. In her mind, she can hear her parents asking her why she didn't simply choose a nicer area to live in. 

Peeking around her empty room, she realizes that she likely just heard a neighbour. It seems empty enough but she holds her bat up and flings open her closet door and flicks the lights on.

Empty.

Chloe sighs when she realizes that it was likely just a neighbor choosing to engage in some fun activities. But still—she frowns, not enjoying how paper-thin the walls are. Also, 2:45 a.m.? Don’t people need to sleep? Chloe makes sure to schedule her extracurricular activities for appropriate hours like a considerate person.

She props her bat against her dresser and sighs, throwing her hair up into a bun before heading to the bathroom to wash her face. She wants to get the clinical smell off her. She sheds her scrubs, sighing in relief.

When she’s rubbing her facial wash into her cheeks, she startles again when there’s a light thud from the wall against her bed and another distinct curse.

Scowling, she takes care to not poke her eye out and quickly rinses. She dashes into her room and leaps on her bed before hitting her fist firmly against the adjoining wall. “Hey!” she shouts. “People are trying to sleep!”

There is a brief silence before another, more purposeful thud against the wall. “I’m _trying_ to sleep,” comes the muffled shout back, sounding vaguely feminine. Chloe strains her hearing, putting herself right against the wall.

“What?” Chloe calls back. She lets her hand slacken and drop back to her side. “That doesn’t sound like sleeping, I’m just saying.”

There’s another thud against the wall, slightly less aggressive. “Dude! I’m just - I’m trying to put my bed together, okay? Can you mind your own business?”

Chloe scowls. She’s sure she’s never met this neighbour before. Maybe it’s an Airbnb tenant. “Well it’s 3 a.m. and there are noise regulations in place. Maybe you should have put your bed together this afternoon.”

“Whatever!”

Chloe huffs and taps the wall. “I’m coming over and I’m bringing my cat. You’re 2E, right?”

“Yeah,” comes the faint muffled reply, before—“Wait, what? Seriously? No! Do not—”

Chloe is already pulling a sweater around her shoulders and sliding her feet into her running shoes. She picks up Button along the way, ignoring his irritable meow.

He could use another friend. So could she.

Chloe raps on her neighbour's door, sharply, but quietly, mindful of the other surrounding apartments.

“Hello?” she calls quietly through the wood.

A pause, then, “How do I know you’re not going to kill me?” The voice is closer than when Chloe heard it through the wall. Chloe decides she likes the sound of her neighbor's voice.

“I’m not going to kill you. I’m just going to help you speed things along because you’ve clearly never put a bed together before.” She peers at the peephole, wondering if her neighbour is peering at her nervously.

There’s a dramatic sigh. Chloe stifles a grin. “Fine,” the disembodied voice says and the door finally swings open.

The first thing Chloe notes—and later, she’ll blame her fizzled-out brain—is how _cute_ her neighbour is. The second is, well, how quickly her brain moves from cute to “ _hot_ ” in a blink.

Chloe notices that she’s not particularly tall, almost the same height as Chloe if not a bit shorter. She is dressed casually in a t-shirt and sweatpants, which Chloe absently notes are hanging low enough that she can see a sliver of (appealing) skin. Her brown hair is pulled into a ponytail, loose tendrils coming to frame her face appealingly.

What compels Chloe the most to this stranger/neighbour is how striking her eyes are. They’re sharp, cobalt blue, and trained directly on Chloe’s—

Chest? No.

(Not that she’d mind.)

“Uh,” Chloe starts, her eyebrow creeping upwards. “Are-”

“-Is that a cat?”

Chloe blinks, realizing she had forgotten she carried her roommate over. “Oh, this is, uh, Button. I hope you don’t mind.” Chloe shifts him in her arms, ignoring the little aggravated purr she hears from him. “I’m Chloe, by the way.” She offers a slight smile and her hand. “See? Not a murderer. Just a concerned neighbour,” she chirps.

Hot brunette's lips twitch into a smile, immediately making her look even more beautiful. She shakes Chloe’s hand, finally introducing herself. “I’m Beca. I, uh—” Beca opens the door further, though her brow furrows like she isn't quite sure _why_ she's simply inviting Chloe in at 3AM in the morning. “I just moved in, so…” She shifts, a bit awkwardly. “Come in?”

Chloe finds Beca’s behaviour oddly charming. She slides in, brushing past Beca. “Shoes on or off?” she asks politely.

“You can keep them on. Everything’s a little messy, so,” Beca says, gesturing at her own feet that are adorned with her own running shoes. Chloe is already intrigued by her neighbour and hopes she isn’t completely overstepping her boundaries, which is something she has been working on.

Beca pauses, turning back towards the short hall leading to her bedroom. Chloe is surreptitiously trying to peer into the assorted boxes in the kitchen and dining room. “What was your cat’s name?” Beca asks, when Chloe moves closer.

“Button.”

“He doesn’t look like a button,” is Beca’s immediate response.

Chloe bites her lip, adoring the slow blush spreading across Beca's cheeks as she contemplates her response. “I mean, I hope he doesn’t,” Chloe drawls. "That would be unfortunate," she teases.

Beca tilts her head, looking more serious. “He kind of looks squashed, actually. Like his face is a little smushed.” Beca points at her own cheeks for emphasis.

 _That_ is kind of offensive. Chloe scoffs. “Excuse me? That’s rude and untrue.”

Beca shrugs, uncaring that she just called Chloe's cat ugly. “The bedroom’s this way.”

Chloe scowls and holds Button closer to her chest. “Don’t listen to her,” she whispers.

Beca’s apartment mirrors her own, though sparsely decorated considering she’s just moved in.

“Here’s the culprit,” Beca says, gesturing with her arms. There’s a mess of wooden planks scattered across her bedroom floor.

“Good God,” Chloe says before she can stop herself.

“I know,” Beca says, sounding slightly embarrassed. “I’ve never really lived by myself before and I got in so late. I really just wanted to put together this bed so I could catch some shut-eye.”

“It kind of is a two-person job,” Chloe admits. “Especially since you’re so small,” she says slyly. She’s not sure where it comes from, but she feels comfortable and relaxed around Beca - enough so to attempt a jab at her, in an attempt at humour.

Thankfully, Beca is receptive and huffs indignantly. “I am like...half an inch shorter than you. One inch, at most.” The equally teasing tone isn’t lost on Chloe and she allows herself a smile.

Button meows, blinking up at Chloe tiredly. Chloe coos, kissing him on the head. “Hm, maybe I shouldn’t have brought him over,” she murmurs.

Beca steps closer and hesitantly lifts a hand to his face so he can acclimatize himself to her scent and presence. Chloe is surprised to see how easily he allows Beca to gently stroke his head and torso with a finger.

“You can put him in my bathroom. There’s nothing really in there yet. I’ll fill the sink with water,” Beca offers. She clears her throat when she realizes how quiet her voice had become. She darts her eyes up to Chloe’s before she steps away hastily.

“That would be nice,” Chloe says, once she finds herself able to breathe again.

She picks up the instruction manual on Beca’s bedside table, looking over the helpful diagrams. Immediately she can see all the ways in which Beca went wrong—almost like she didn't even _look_ at the instructions. For some reason, despite her earlier annoyance at how noisy Beca was being, the thought of Beca thinking she's somehow above IKEA instructions makes her chest fill with a certain kind of fondness.

“You know IKEA’s supposed to be idiot-proof, right?” Chloe calls into the bathroom, before following the sound of Beca’s indignant huff.

* * *

Chloe learns that Beca is an aspiring DJ by night and a music producer during the day.

“Anything I would have heard?” Chloe asks while she neatly slots a slate of wood into place. Beca holds out a wooden dowel helpfully. “I need the other thing,” Chloe says absently. “The screw thing.”

“Oh.” Beca rummages through the bag. “I don’t know if you’ve heard anything. I just post things on Soundcloud from time to time. Usually my original stuff.” Beca shuffles around. “I have worked on a few Taylor Swift productions, though.”

Chloe drops the instruction manual she had been perusing. “What? That’s amazing!”

“Taylor Swift?”

Chloe shakes her head. “I guess, yeah, because who doesn't love Taylor Swift—" she glances up to see a slight smile on Beca's face. "But," Chloe continues, unsure why she feels like blushing under Beca's intent gaze. "The fact that you put out your own original music. That’s incredible. I thought you definitely just did remixes and other…” Chloe gestures vaguely. “...production stuff. When you first said you DJ.”

Beca’s blush reaches her ears. “Oh. I mean, I do that too. I started off doing that. Do you want to...hear something?” She looks genuinely surprised, yet touched, that Chloe is so receptive to her profession.

Chloe nods, dropping her materials completely. She feels excitement buzz through her, wondering if she can still chalk it up to the late hour.

Beca nods vigorously, matching Chloe’s enthusiasm. It makes her light up in new ways and it only makes Chloe even more interested in getting to know Beca on so many different levels. There is such glee and happiness on Beca's face, transforming her features so beautifully and pleasantly. “Okay, I’ll just - I’ll get my laptop!”

* * *

Somehow at 3:32 a.m., Chloe finds herself leaning against the bedroom wall, next to an unfinished bed, and listening to music from her neighbour’s laptop speakers.

Beca Mitchell is...something.

Chloe had been prepared to completely write off Beca as a lost cause because what adult doesn’t know how to put together an Ikea bed?

According to Beca, lots of people, apparently.

Regardless, Chloe finds herself drawn to Beca, both physically and emotionally. There’s something about the woman that endears Chloe to her.

“This sounds amazing,” Chloe says quietly, speaking just loud enough to be heard over the quiet music. She can feel Beca breathing next to her. It baffles her how intensely Beca is focused on her screen, drawn in by her own passion and talent. “Is that you singing?”

Beca nods, shifting slightly. “I, uh, sing some back-up vocals from time to time.” Her eyes slide over to Chloe’s tentatively. “Do you sing?”

“I...did some a capella in university.” She pauses. “Do you know what…a capella is?”

Beca laughs. “I mean, I can’t put a bed together, but I haven’t completely lived under a rock. Of course I do.”

“Well, sorry,” Chloe huffs, nudging Beca with her shoulder. Beca only laughs again, this time sounding closer to a giggle. “I mean, you’re out here living that celebrity life. I thought a capella might be a little nerdy for you.”

“You think I’m cool?” Beca asks immediately, perking up like puppy. She immediately shrivels under Chloe's amused expression and quickly looks away.

It kind of reminds Chloe of a nervous freshman, seeking validation. Validation that Chloe’s only too happy to give. “Among other things,” she teases, testing the waters.

Beca’s furrowed brow is adorable and would be even more attractive if it didn’t mean Beca was likely trying to figure out how to interpret Chloe’s comment.

“I thought you were, uh, very attractive when you first opened the door,” Chloe says.

A smirk appears on Beca’s face, surprising Chloe a little bit. She swallows, a little nervously when the smirk continues to transform Beca completely, now exuding complete confidence. Chloe realizes she had just been played.

“I mean, you’re not so bad yourself, Chloe Beale.” Beca’s eyes seem to sparkle in the low light.

Chloe thinks that there have been worse ways to meet somebody new. She likes the warmth that courses through her body. It feels easy to be with Beca like this—like she has known her all her life, or perhaps in different lifetimes. Perhaps they were always fated to meet in some way. Through various means. It isn't the most conventional way to meet somebody, not at all, but Chloe had been waiting so long for a sign to tell her that Los Angeles was still worth sticking around for and, well—

"What are you thinking about?" Beca asks. Her voice is lower. Quieter.

Chloe clears her throat. "Nothing."

* * *

Somehow, the bed gets made somewhere around 4:00 a.m.. Chloe doesn’t quite remember falling asleep, but when she blinks awake, it’s about 7:30 a.m. and she can hear Button meowing from the bathroom. She sits up, dislodging Beca’s arm from around her waist. She winces when Beca grunts quietly in her sleep and twists so her body is curled and facing Chloe.

Chloe is struck once more by how attracted she is to this woman.

“God, you’re cute,” Chloe mutters. She tentatively brushes a strand of hair from Beca’s face before she draws her hand back, wincing at the intimacy of the touch. She doesn't _know_ Beca like that and she wonders if she's overstepping personal boundaries again. It's a bad habit that she tries to shake every now and then.

Then again, Beca _had_ put her arm around her. 

Chloe smiles, relaxing just a little. She remembers talking until they fell asleep, just talking about music, their hobbies, and other interests.

Chloe remembers thinking that Beca’s voice could lull her to sleep anytime, despite having found it so irritating only a couple hours before.

Chloe remembers the sudden shyness in Beca's expression. The sudden tension between them when their conversations ran a bit too serious; when their conversations ran a bit too deep. But neither had minded, just pushing through until they both evidently exhausted themselves and fell asleep together on Beca's newly made bed.

Chloe figures that if this is all she gets to have with Beca—a stolen night bonding over unmade furniture—she would like to remember it fondly and to remember it well.

And just like that, she’s awake at 7:31 a.m. and gently tucking Beca’s thin blanket up around Beca's shoulders to protect her from the AC blasting through the small room. It looks even smaller in the soft daylight.

Chloe gazes at Beca for a moment—only a moment because she isn't _that_ much of a weirdo—and lets her feelings settle in her chest. She leaves a quick note containing her phone number and places it right next to the instructions for Beca’s bed before heading over to collect Button from the bathroom.

* * *

Later that day, Chloe receives a series of texts from an unknown number.

 **Unknown (2:42 p.m.)**  
_Hey, so I kind of need help putting my dining table together.  
_ _Want to help me figure it out, then maybe I can make you dinner or something?  
or you know. whatever. _

**Unknown (2:45 p.m.)** _  
This is Beca by the way._

Chloe grins.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come say hello to me on **[Tumblr](https://darby-carter.tumblr.com/)**. Or just browse around my chaotic mindspace.


End file.
